
It was May 12, 2000, and Dale Earnhardt had found a small patch of secluded paradise about a mile off the coast of Cape Eleuthera in the Bahamas.
On this 50-yard by 30-yard sand bar in the middle of the ocean, Dale, Teresa, my wife Beth and I ran a small boat ashore, dropped anchor and off-loaded beach chairs and a cooler of adult beverages. Surrounded by nothing but crystal blue water, we felt as if we were the only four people on Earth.

Over the blaring Brooks & Dunn CD, Dale heard the shore calling on his radio. He walked over to the boat and when he returned a few minutes later, the look on his face told a story. They just told him Adam Petty had been killed at New Hampshire Motor Speedway during a then-Busch Series practice.
That was exactly 10 years ago, a decade that seems like two lifetimes ago. On that day, the one bridge that connected NASCAR's heritage to its future was gone.
Adam was NASCAR's first fourth-generation driver, great-grandson of founding father Lee Petty, grandson to NASCAR's King Richard Petty and son of multi-time winner and sport's most flamboyant driver Kyle Petty.
At 19, Adam had his grandfather's build, illuminating smile and driving ability, combined with his father's charisma and infectious personality. At 19, he had already run a Cup race at Texas and was competitive each week in NASCAR's Busch series. He was a shooting star.
I worked with Kyle for almost two years between the fall of 1994 through the spring of 1996 as the team manager of Sabco Racing -- what is now Earnhardt-Ganassi with Felix Sabates Racing. I can't help but remember Adam as a young child whose Kyle-side couldn't help but surface every day. (Continued)